Pawns of Destiny
by cassiopeia4
Summary: (SB/BB) Cassandra Trelawney's curse on Phineas Nigellus' descendants is fulfilled five generations later when his last descendant is felled by his own cousin. But what did Cassandra really see in that crystal ball on that long-forgotten evening so many de


Les Belles Dames sans Merci Prologue 

_I_

_Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,  
Alone and palely loitering?  
The sedge is wither¡¯d from the lake,  
And no birds sing._

It was late evening, and the distant light from the Orion stars bathed the planet Aria in a soft iridescent glow. On a tiny rockcrop in the vast ocean, three sirens, flanked by lithe dolphins, were singing a slow, haunting song, in a melodious vibrant language, their rich voices punctuated occasionally by the gentle lapping of foamy turquoise waves upon the rock¡¯s surface. 

_Cruelle d¨¦partie   
Malheureux jour   
Que ne suis-je sans vie   
Ou sans amour. _

_Que ne puis-je te suivre   
Soleil ardent   
Ou bien cesser de vivre   
En te perdant _

_Les jours de ton absence   
Me sont des nuits   
Et les nuits la naissance   
De mille ennuis. _

_A qui veut voir l'image   
Du d¨¦sespoir   
A mon triste visage   
Le vienne voir. _

Some distance away, a tiny, forlorn figure appeared on a flawless shoreline. He strolled forward slowly, taking measured steps, leaving an even trail of footprints in his wake. The sirens fell silent as he strode across the beach. They recognised him; him with the startlingly handsome features, him with the midnight eyes, muscular frame and wavy hair. He had visited them many times before, as had his predecessor, but this time it was different. _He_ was different. 

The man stopped, abruptly, as he approached a similar figure standing in the shade of a tall palm tree overlooking the seething ocean. The second man had dark, chiselled features, and wore a sombre expression which spoke volumes. 

They mirrored each other perfectly, the two figures did, and though each came from a different age in time, they shared a common fate.

The first man smiled tentatively, and inclined his head.

¡°Phineas?¡± It was more of a statement than a question.

¡°Sirius.¡± The second man acknowledged him with a brief nod, his expression unwavering. ¡°I¡¯ve been expecting you, too.¡°

Sirius nodded, and for a while, both fell silent, absorbed in their own reminisces, while in the background, only the tranquil music of the gulls and the waves drifted on.

It was Phineas who broke the silence, somewhat regretfully.

¡°You might as well talk to me. You¡¯re going to be stuck here for eternity anyway.¡±

Sirius turned to face him, and Phineas could not help but notice the depths of pain contained within his dark eyes, like a bottomless well, or an unending spring. His eyes met Sirius¡¯, and in spite of himself, he felt a rush of sympathy, and a twinge of guilt.

¡°Then tell me,¡° Sirius almost pleaded, and for the first time his deep resonant voice came close to cracking. ¡°Tell me why all this had to happen, when everything once seemed so perfect. Tell me why _me_, why _us? All we had to go through¡­ it¡¯s almost as if this is our destiny, that our family¡¯s cursed or something.¡±_

Phineas laid a hand on Sirius¡¯ shoulder in a fatherly fashion and allowed himself a small ironic smile.

¡°Y¡¯know, my boy¡­ you aren¡¯t _that_ far from the truth yourself.¡±

* * *

_ Many people were aware of the fact that little Cassandra Trelawney could see into the future, but few had any inkling at all that she had the power to change it. And of the few who did, fewer still believed it._

_ Unfortunately, Phineas Nigellus was not one of those few ¨C not at first, at least. Until the day when he discovered her secret by chance._

* * *

On that fateful starlit night, in a time long past and forgotten by all but the oldest of wizards, Phineas was strolling back to his dormitory after supper. Crossing through the stately and majestic Astronomy Tower, admiring the elaborate designs on its stairways and walls as he headed back, he thought he heard strange noises emanating from the building. 

Suspecting that his fellow pupils were up to some mischief once again, Phineas, shaking his head in disgust, mounted the long windy staircase without the slightest hesitation, silently and cautiously, the light reflecting off the Prefect badge pinned proudly to his right chest mirroring the glinting determination in his deep black eyes. The night was cold, and although the breath escaped his pale lips in swirling white puffs, Phineas¡¯ back was drenched in sweat under his thick robes even before he¡¯d reached the fifth floor. It was an odd sensation.

Odder still, however, was the sight that greeted him when he finally pinpointed the source of the spooky sounds, that which made him feel like an intruder into a secret haven.

Cassandra Trelawney was standing in the centre of the Divination room, her back towards him, a crystal ball clasped between her palms and enveloped in her slender fingers. Her gaze was lifted heavenward, and she was intoning in a low voice that reverberated around the room, setting off sinister echoes. Her wavy black hair, usually draped around her slim shoulders, now hung low to her waist, giving her an unearthly, even ethereal, appearance. Surrounding her were four or five other girls, all Ravenclaws, who were regarding her with rapt expressions almost brimming with reverence.

Phineas¡¯ gaze hardened as a spasm of envy ran through him. For Cassandra looked stunning ¨C it was impossible to mask the fact that she was endowed with the rare, precious gift of foresight, and that made him hate her all the more.

Still glaring at her, he cleared his throat.

¡°Trelawney, you¡¯re supposed to be in bed by now. I¡¯m going to have to report you,¡± He winced, realizing too late that his voice, deep as it was, sounded extremely high-pitched compared to hers.

¡°Thou wouldst _not_!¡± She whirled around, and the crystal ball she was holding fell from her hands and shattered into a million tiny pieces, each shard giving off a pale glow ¨C the essence of the individual events locked within it. The other girls let out a collective gasp.

¡°_I wouldst not,¡± Phineas drawled sarcastically, ¡°if I hadst not been a Prefect. Thou knowest, certainly, that Prefects are obliged to report misdemeanours ¨C ¡°_

¡°That thou wilt regret,¡± Cassandra replied serenely, bending down to scoop up the splinters of her crystal ball with cupped palms. Phineas watched in astonishment as, before his eyes, they melded into each other and resumed their original form, unblemished and perfect.

Cassandra held the crystal ball up to her face, so that it was reflected in its endless depths. She peered into it for a long moment, her blue eyes glittering, her expression inscrutable. Suddenly her lips parted, and she began intoning again, not in her usual measured baritone, but in the harsh, raspy tones of one set on a cruel task.

_¡°Behold! _

_¡°For there shall arise from your loins a divided people, and they shall know no peace, till the day the last of your heirs meets his doom at the hand of his beloved. _

_¡°So has it been said, so shall it be done.¡±_

Phineas spun on his heel as Cassandra turned towards him, the crystal ball nestled in her outstretched palm. He imagined it would contain the accusing faces of his descendants, their features twisted in scorn and fury at the doom he had brought upon them, and he dared not face them. 

He did not stop running till he had reached the relative safety of the Slytherin dormitory, and as he sank onto an upholstered chair, trembling as the pulse throbbed in his temples and the blood coursed through his veins, it suddenly occurred to him that it had somehow been tainted¡­

That night Phineas had a strange dream. In it he was transported to a wondrously blissful paradise, a cosy woodland grove where faerie folk of all species ran wild and frolicked fearlessly with the rabbits, squirrels and deer, where the rush of wind blew gently through the ripening trees, leaving a trail of falling leaves in its wake, where Phineas felt totally out of place, an accidental intruder into a secret hidden world. He sat alone on a stray rock, watching silently, soaking up the idyllic atmosphere of pure tranquillity as the tiny creatures entertained him with their nimble dance.

Suddenly a young faerie with straight auburn hair and warm hazel eyes sidled up to Phineas conspiratorially. In both arms she clutched a delicate-looking knife with an oval obsidian embedded within its hilt. Phineas looked at her, somewhat surprised, an unspoken question brimming in his eyes. For faeries were naturally timid in nature, not inclined to approach humans, much less bestow exquisite gifts upon them.

She refused to meet his gaze, but instead laid the knife at his feet gently.

¡°Take this, and treasure it always,¡± she commanded.

But Phineas sneaked a glance at her, and thought he recognised Cassandra Trelawney.

* * *

¡°The knife. Yes, I remember. I gave it to Harry last Christmas. I had to; it brought back too many painful memories,¡± Sirius said pensively.

_Memories. Wave upon wave, they surged forth, crashing down upon him relentlessly, like the sea spray upon the shore, merging with the tears that had subconsciously fell from his eyes and bringing forth a salty tang of deep sadness and regret._

Memories about his godson, who had so suddenly, so unexpectedly, lost the only father figure he had met in his short life and who would have to go through life¡¯s trials and tribulations without him.

_You¡¯re all alone now, Harry. Would that I were still alive. Sirius could only silently but fervently wish him well._

Memories of his closest friend, Remus, who¡¯d stood by him always, who¡¯d never once doubted him, to whom he owed too much and repaid too little. After his escape from Azkaban, when all Sirius had needed to sustain him was a friendly face and smile, Remus¡¯ gentle concern had been overwhelming. _I could never thank you enough. Farewell, Remus._

Alone, now Remus remained the only surviving and uncorrupted member of the now-defunct Marauders, the band of mischief-makers who had once taken Hogwarts by storm, one of the sole shreds of what remained of that blissful childhood, those Hogwarts days, that Sirius had put far behind him.

Hogwarts. In retrospect, Sirius had come to associate his school days with only one name, one which spoke of hushed meetings, secret conferences, and whispered encounters. When all the memories of puling pranks and breaking rules had yellowed and faded away, only one name remained in his mind, that of someone whose existence Sirius could neither deny nor forget:

_Tricia._

* * *

At the same instant, billions of light-years away, Bellatrix slipped quietly out of the double bed she shared with Rodolphus, draped a red woollen shawl round her shoulders, picked up her wand, and ventured out into the open balcony illuminated by a single candle flame from an antique lamp hanging in its corner.

Settling back into a deckchair, Bellatrix casually transmuted a teabag on the marble table into a teacup filled to the brim with piping hot black tea, from which she drank gratefully. Tea always helped her to recover her lucidity and refresh her mind, tasks which a seasoned Death Eater conditioned to deny her own humanity and unquestioningly serve her Master had to carry out on occasion, lest she lose her faltering grasp on sanity permanently.

Calmly, almost detachedly, she reflected on the day¡¯s events. She did not remember them clearly; it had passed in a blur of obedience, obeisance, doing her Master¡¯s bidding, grovelling before him occasionally, serving him with all she had and was.

Yet there was something about the day¡¯s events that stubbornly tugged at her mind, something not quite usual, not quite _right_, leaving her feeling nonplussed in spite of herself. Closing her eyes, she struggled to remember, to _recall_¡­

It came to her in a flash, the faint image which blazed through her mind, that of two figures, one blinding burst of red light, and a ragged fluttering veil.

And then, in her mind¡¯s eye, she heard Sirius¡¯s familiar vibrant laughter resonating across the room, saw the look of muted shock mingled with disbelief on his face as she struck once, twice and finally hit him, and as he plummeted, ever so slowly, into nothingness, like the fallen prey of the victorious archer fish. _The great dog has fallen at the hands of the lady warrior. Then she heard the cruel cry of triumph that had issued from her lips, a chilling reminder of the automatic subjugation of her will which kicked in every time she went to carry out one of the Dark Lord¡¯s tasks. _

But she had done it nevertheless; she had done so many things while enwrapped in the semi-lucid trance her Master placed upon her that she could hardly distinguish between the figments of reality and those of her imagination.

And as Bellatrix remembered what she had done that day, her mouth went dry. She would have wept for herself and him, only that she was beyond tears, beyond grief, only that the horrors of her life made her indifferent to death. But this was not her own death she was facing; this was Sirius¡¯ cold-blooded murder ¨C at _her own hands. The full force and sheer shock of this realisation struck her, and her teacup fell from her fingers and shattered as she sank back in the chair, overwhelmed. _I didn¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t have.__

And as she did so her eyelids flew open, and her head was tilted back, so that, for the first time that evening, she caught a full glimpse of the shimmering patchwork of stars, the silken threads from which the very heavens were woven. The beauty of the heavens moved her as they had never before, and unconsciously, as she had done since she was a little girl, Bellatrix searched the ebony fabric of the skies for the very object that was her namesake. And at the sight of the star, she was comforted; it make her feel as if a higher power, one greater than the Dark Lord, was watching over her from amongst the stars, and was keeping her safe.

But her gaze did not end there; it rested, instead, on a neighbouring star, whose white aura contrasted with the dark skies like a lily on a gypsy¡¯s hair, a star which was the brightest in its house, in its constellation ¨C the brightest, in fact, in all the heavens.

Which was, in fact, what Bellatrix had always considered Sirius to be.

And, as her eyelids fluttered shut, Bellatrix was unable to quell the tide of long-buried, long-suppressed memories which washed through her mind¡­

* * *

And in the distant constellation Orion, the twinkling stars, young and old, heard the varied thoughts of Sirius and Bellatrix, and were greatly moved by the bond they shared, that which made them kindred spirits. And they melded their words, and interwove them like gossamer threads, so that their stories would become one, so that the very skies would proclaim their tale, so that it would be inscribed in the heavens, as tangible as their very destinies were.

And here, my friends, is their story, that which is contained in the very orbit of the swiftly tilting planets and the gentle whorl of the cloud of stardust that makes up its complex formations in the form of solar systems. Their legacy, which is intertwined with the stars that bear their names, and with Aria, the tiny planet situated between them. This is their tale.

* * *


End file.
